Striding In
by kittypox
Summary: Recovering from shoulder surgery was going to be hard enough for Leon. He had counted on pain and suffering. He hadn't counted on Ada. She told him she was there to take care of him-but Leon wondered what that entailed. Of more interest, he wondered what type of games they would play this time and if he could handle Ada's games while he recovered.
1. Chapter 1

Striding In

Author's Note: I did my best to try and keep these two in character, but pardon any slips as I don't have massive back history with Resident Evil. I could go on about how and why I love Leon/Ada so much, but I'm sure no one wants to hear that. Rating may (read: will almost definitely) go up later.

The painkillers were starting to wear off. Leon withheld a groan, willing the burning agony in his shoulder to die. He really wished he had that nerve block still. With a grit of his teeth, he shifted in his seat in the passenger side of his teammate's car. The other man glanced at him, a worried expression on his face.

"You okay there, Kennedy?"

The young agent let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "I'm fine, Mike. Just get me home."

The other man nodded, turning his eyes back to the road. Leon continued to shift uncomfortably in the seat next to him, but there was little he could do to ease the young man's suffering. At the next light, he glanced over to check the bandages for any blood. He doubted that anything was amiss; if the doctors had been concerned, they wouldn't have discharged Leon. It was better safe than sorry though.

Leon let out a sigh of relief when Mike pulled up to the door of his apartment building. He was suddenly glad that the government insisted on him living close, which entailed him staying at a rather upscale apartment complex. A doorman rushed out to open his door and took the keys to park the car as Mike came around and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him steady. It galled Leon a bit, seeing how weak he had become. It's all part of the recovery process, he reminded himself. One does not simply walk out of minor surgery and expect to be in peak condition.

The trip to his ninth floor apartment was too long, in Leon's opinion. It was longer than he remembered. Up the elevator, lingering in the cramped space for what seemed like an hour before giving in to his weakness and leaning his weight into Mike, forcing the man to essentially drag him down two hallways to get to his door.

Leon had no faith in his ability to work the lock, so he passed the key to Mike. The man fumbled with it, finding it somewhat difficult to unlock the door with one hand while the other held the Leon upright. After a faltering with the lock a few times, the door clicked and they continued to stumble their way through the apartment. Mike had tried to deposit him on the couch by the kitchen so he could get the young man a drink, but Leon shook his head.

"Take me to the bedroom, I'm going right to sleep."

Mike grunted, adjusting his grip on Leon. "Sure thing, buddy. Just hang on a little longer."

The grating pain in his shoulder had reached beyond agony and Leon could hardly concentrate on keeping his feet straight, much less moving them. More often than not, he would feel Mike's fingers dig into the flesh under his armpit to keep him on his feet. Perhaps if they had taken their time to move carefully, he would have walked better, but as it was, Leon was eager to get into his bed and start sleeping the surgery off.

When they stumbled over to his bed, Leon attempted to push away from Mike and collapse, but the other man had enough sense to keep a firm hold of him and prevent any reckless moves. Mike made sure Leon sat on the edge of the bed first, then helped the young agent take his shoes off and get his feet up, and finally he helped ease Leon back into his pillows. The young man let out a sound somewhere between a groan of pain and sigh of relief.

Mike watched Leon's face for a moment, noting the way the young man's eyes twitched behind closed eyelids. "Stay right there, I'm going to get you a glass of water and then you're going to take another dose of pills. Don't. Move."

The tone of Mike's voice would have made Leon laugh on another day. A small sound of amusement escaped him, but the movement jostled his shoulder and he grimaced in pain. The last dose of pills might have been lingering in his system, Leon thought, or his sleeplessness at the hospital had caught up. His head was swimming and even behind closed eyelids, he felt like the world was tilting.

"Just sleep it off." He chanted to himself. The next few days were going to be a bitch, he knew, but if he could sleep off the worst of it, the better for him. Through a lot of favors and string pulling, somehow he had managed to keep his position as a secret service agent. Thankfully, it was just an injured rotator cuff that had slowed him down. He would recover. If he had been shot though, Leon had a feeling his days as an agent would have been numbered. The worrying thought that if he did not recover well, he might still lose his badge popped into his head.

While Mike clanked around in the kitchen, getting his water, Leon went over his plan for recovery. Out of necessity, he would be out of commission for several months. The first few weeks he would have limited mobility; the arm would need to be in a sling. The injury would put him almost completely off of his training and exercise regiments. Leon sighed mentally. He hated being idle, but this was one instance where he needed to force himself to sit still. Recovery would take time, patience, and obedience of the doctor's orders. With little else to do, why not sleep the worst of the pain off?

The cold glass of water was gently touched to his chest to rouse him from his dozing. Leon blinked his bleary eyes, gathering his thoughts. Mike held onto the glass until his shaky fingers took it from him, then the man rattled a bottle of pills at him.

Leon forced himself up a little so he could drink. When Mike extended the pill bottle, he shook his head. "I took pills at the hospital."

"Five hours ago." Mike pointed out, unscrewing the bottle cap. "Trust me, pal, you don't want this shit to wear off. You think you're in pain now, you'll be trying to bite your arm off if you start to feel the real pain."

The man had a point, Leon admitted. "Alright. Just help me sit up; I probably shouldn't be lying down anyways."

Mike moved to help him. "Yeah, keep it elevated. Good idea."

Swallowing the pills was difficult; his throat felt thick and closed. The last one refused to go down and, frustrated and exhausted, Leon chewed it into small pieces until he could work it down his throat. With that monumental task done, Leon collapsed back into the pillows Mike had propped up for him. His senses were swimming again. Leon was sure he had fallen asleep when Mike gave him a careful nudge on the leg. He cracked open an eye to look at the man.

"You need anything else?"

Leon shook his head softly.

There was a pause of silence before Mike sighed. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone to fend for yourself. You just got out of surgery, man."

A small laugh escaped Leon. "Don't worry, I've been through worse. I'm just going to sleep this off."

The man growled unhappily. "Alright. I'm going to put your phone on the bed stand. If you need anything or start feeling weird, call me. Do you hear me?"

Leon tried to nod.

"I'm going to be calling you, so make sure you pick up the phone."

"Come on, Mike, just go away. I want to sleep."

The other man huffed at being dismissed. Before he left, he reiterated the importance of calling if Leon needed anything and reminded the young man that he would be checking up often. All the energy Leon could muster was put into a vague wave of his hand. He waited until he heard the apartment door close before allowing himself to let go of the last thread of consciousness he had been clinging to. Sleep had never sounded like a better idea.

The phone was ringing. Leon groaned unhappily, having been dragged from a pleasantly numb slumber. The pain in his shoulder was slowly bleeding into his consciousness and he wondered where Mike had put that bottle of pills. A glance at the clock confirmed that he was in need of another dose.

It was an epic struggle just to get the phone off the bed stand. Leon prayed that Mike had left the top to the pill bottle off or he would need to phone the front desk for help. Wouldn't that be humiliating.

He mumbled something into the phone.

"Ready to eat?" Mike's voice came from the other end of the line.

Leon sighed; the man had made good on his word. "Yeah, I'll get a snack after I take some pills and then I'm going back to sleep."

"Need me to come over with anything?"

"No." Leon groaned, trying to get to his feet. Every little movement seemed to jostle his shoulder just enough to send sparks of pain shooting through his arm. "I'll be okay, I have plenty of food here that doesn't require effort to make. Just tell me where you put the pills."

"I put them back in the bathroom, so you wouldn't knock them over when you reached for the phone."

"Thanks, Mike."

Before he hung up, Mike had reminded him that he would be calling again that night. Leon almost wished the man wouldn't, with the mood he was in. Pain was making him irritable. Mike was just being a good friend, he told himself as he trudged to the bathroom. More painkillers and another nap might improve his mood.

That was seeming like a less likely plan however as he entered the bathroom and failed to find the bottle of pills. Leon frowned at his bathroom counter then checked inside his medicine cabinet. A check of all the labels revealed nothing.

"Damn it."

Leon slammed the cabinet door shut, rattling a few things from the force of the swing. His sour mood had gone to full foul. What was he going to do without the painkillers? There was a bottle of motrin in there; that was a fairly strong painkiller. Not strong enough, he told himself as another twinge of agony threatened to take him to his knees.

Maybe Mike had left it on the bed stand and only thought he left it in the bathroom, Leon thought hopefully, stumbling back into the bedroom. There was nothing. He looked on his desk, in every drawer in the room, even ridiculously unlikely places like his clothes drawer. If the bottle was not on the bed stand then maybe it was in the kitchen. The other man knew that he would have to eat, so maybe Mike had put it by the refrigerator and forgotten that was where he left them. That was a terribly unlikely idea, but Leon clung to the hope that he would find the pills and not need to put in a new order and wait until he was gnawing his arm off, like Mike had said, before he could take another dose.

He was already thinking of where he had put his doctor's number so he could call in the order when he spotted the open container on the kitchen counter. Seeing it, Leon froze for a second down the hall before hastily going over and spilling the contents out. He did not waste time getting water to swallow the pills; the pain had become grating and constant and every second felt worse than the one before.

Having swallowed two pills, Leon shut his eyes and took a moment to gather his breath and try to relax. Being tense would not help his healing shoulder. Letting out a long breath, he opened his eyes and looked at the mess he had made on the counter. It would not do to have his saviors scattered on the counter where he might drop them.

"How did you even get out here?" Leon asked the little bottle, setting the orange container upright.

He reached out to pluck up the first of the pills, but ended up dropping them a second later when a silky voice wafted from the other room,

"Why don't you let me take care of that while you sit and eat, handsome?"

Leon blinked, the pain in his shoulder fading into the back of his mind as he stared in open disbelief at the woman sauntering into the kitchen. She flashed him a soft, coy smile, before gently pushing him out of the way and sweeping the small pile of pills into her hand.

He continued to stare at her, unsure whether he was having some sort of vivid hallucination or whether the woman was truly there. When she had finished putting the pills back into their container, she turned to him and waved a hand towards the sofa in the other room.

"I brought you a sandwich and some soup. You need to keep your strength up right now, don't you agree, Leon?"

Slowly, he nodded his head.

He could not help himself, he had to ask, no matter how stupid it made him sound. "Ada?"

She nodded her head at him, amused.

He laughed suddenly and the woman canted her head at him. "I must be dreaming if it's you here and not Mike."

"Your friend? He left a few hours ago. I have no intention of needing him to be called." He stared at her, curious, and she couldn't help but smile at his confusion. "You aren't dreaming, Leon."

"But _why_ are you here?"

"To take care of you." She said simply.

"Take care of me?" He looked at her inquiringly, not having expected that response.

She shrugged her thin shoulders and Leon couldn't help but feel envious of the movement. "You sound surprised. I know when you need help."

"You keep tabs on me."

"Naturally."

Leon puzzled over the situation. This was unlike Ada. Normally he would have to chase the woman and drill her for answers. Not to mention that when they typically met it was in the middle of dire circumstances, where they were fighting for their lives. Yet here she was, dressed in jeans and a red blouse, retrieving a bag of food she had left in the other room. It felt oddly domestic; he half expected corpse to amble out of the other room, just to keep things normal. Somehow, he was not entirely surprised that she kept an eye on him. If he had it in his resources, he would probably keep tabs on her too.

He decided not to wonder too much on it that moment; his brain was still foggy. As it was, Ada was standing by the sofa, having laid his meal out on the table there. She folded her arms over her chest and smiled at him, waiting.

Why not, he asked himself, walking stiffly over to the sofa and sitting down slowly. He was aware of her eyes trained on him, watching every movement he made. She was cataloging him, he realized, and wondered what she had found. He still wasn't lucid enough to really do a check himself. He knew his shoulder hurt like a bitch and that was all that he could focus on.

Eating was going to be a hassle, Leon realized as pieces of his sandwich fell from between the slices of bread. He sighed, ignoring it for the moment. When he was done, he had a small pile of lettuce and meat sitting in his lap that he tried to brush into a napkin. Next to him, Ada laughed softly. She reached over suddenly and swept his lap clean then moved the soup in front of him.

Leon glanced at his injured arm, bound to his chest with the sling. "I don't think I can eat that."

"I'll help you, if you need."

He shot her a sour look. "I don't need to be infantilized, thank you."

"But you need to eat."

He glanced at the soup. It was his favorite. The war with his pride was going downhill. Ada was staring at him with her usual passive expression, waiting for his answer. Finally, he gave a single, firm nod. She reached out and picked up the small cup of soup and extended the plastic spoon to him.

"So you won't be completely infantilized." She explained with a teasing grin. "I'll hold the cup for you. I think you're still capable of feeding yourself."

"I am." He retorted, doing his best to twist the spoon get it to his mouth without spilling any. It wasn't a completely successful mission, but he was pleased with the results, considering his condition.

Ada said nothing as he ate, only moved the cup closer when he needed and passed him a napkin when he lost control of the spoon. When he was done eating, she did her best to clean up the crumbs and spills before tossing the waste into the trash. Leon reclined in his seat, feeling better after taking the pills and getting a decent meal in his belly. He hoped the lingering anesthetic wouldn't make him vomit everything up later.

"Not there."

Leon peeled his eyes open; he had nearly fallen asleep again. Ada was standing in front of him, hands on her hips. He made a soft sound of inquiry.

His pathetic noise made her laugh and shake her head. "Get back into bed. That's the place for you to rest."

He nodded, using his good arm to force himself to his feet. Surprisingly, Ada did not offer to help. She stood back, allowing him to get up on his own and hobble back to his room without aid. She was not going to injure his pride more than necessary, he realized. He was thankful to her for that gift.

Getting into bed was much easier than it had been when Mike had first brought him home. Ada came to stand next to the bed, watching as he got comfortable. She looked at the clock.

"I'll wake you up when you need your next dose."

Leon turned to her, astonished. "That's in a few hours."

She nodded, uncertain as to why he pointed that out.

He looked at her steadily then dared to ask, "Will you still be here?" Ada never stayed. The last time he had fallen asleep with her in his company, he had woken to a cold, empty bed.

When she realized what Leon had been driving at, Ada couldn't contain a small chuckle. "Yes, I'll still be here. I'm going to stay until you're capable of making it on your own."

"I could probably manage."

"Possibly." She admitted. "But you'd likely do a lot of damage to yourself. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen." She saw him open his mouth to ask more question, so she leaned over and pulled a blanket over his legs. "Shh. I'll be here when you wake up."

That was Ada's polite way of saying shut up, Leon thought. It was probably best if he didn't ask questions anyways. The more he knew, the less happy he might be. Anyone else would have questioned his comfort and trust in Ada, given her questionable background, but Leon had no qualms shutting his eyes and drifting to sleep. No matter who she worked for, no matter what her orders were, he knew Ada would protect him. He would trust her; she had never given him reason not to. The only worry he had with Ada was whether or not he could keep his feelings in check to spare them from getting hurt. If he woke and Ada was still there, he knew he would be in for a difficult time on that regard.

He would have to face that struggle, Leon thought briefly before he succumbed to sleep. There had been times before when Ada had said she would stay and he had woken to find her gone. Those had been frivolous times though, nothing of importance. Injured as he was and in need of help, he knew she would stay. Since that was the case, his final thought led him to wonder just what cat and mouse games the two of them would play this time.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

First off, a big thanks to everyone who favorite and followed! I'm glad that you all found the story interesting and want more. A HUGE thanks to those who reviewed—I love reviews; they make me feel good about my writing and make me want to write more. You guys are all awesome.

This story takes place somewhere between RE4 and RE6. Maybe two years after RE4. I knew I forgot to say something in that last note. Also, sorry but I have to give you this fair warning; I don't normally update this quickly. If you have the muse though, use it before you lose it.

Chapter 2

Leon had heard about pain so strong that it could reach a person while they were unconscious and haunt them even in their dreams. A vague memory of being shot in Racoon city swept through his head as the vicious claws of pain sank deeper into his dream and his senses slowly struggled to wake. He peeled his eyes open unwillingly, looking about for any trudging corpses lurking behind garbage cans. There was no such thing. He blinked several times. There was his TV across the room, the light by the window was switched on, and the bedroom door was open. He sighed; he was safe. He was home.

Safe did not mean alright though, he thought with a grimace as a great wave of pain crested through his one side. It was time for another dose of painkillers. He struggled to sit up but froze when the echoed of heels clicked down the wooden hallway floor. Ada's internal clock was in tune with his own apparently, for she came bearing the gift of a glass of water and his next dose of pills.

Regardless of the relentless throbbing in his shoulder and arm, Leon could not help but spend a few moments staring at the woman standing in his doorway. She had stayed, he thought in vague amazement. When it mattered, he knew Ada would stay by his side, but even knowing that, he had been unsure if she would remain. She had. He could not repress the smile.

Ada looked at him questioningly, but he waved the look away embarrassedly with a lie. "I'm really glad you brought those pills."

The woman said nothing, likely seeing through his farce. She strode forward and thrust the glass of water under his nose. Leon took it gratefully, then plucked the pills from her palm. His fingertips brushed over the soft skin of her palm and he felt a part of himself melt at the touch. He had missed touching her. A glance up at Ada revealed nothing; her face was a passive mask. If she had felt something at the fleeting contact, she hid it admirably.

Good, Leon thought, angry with himself as he hastily shoved the pills into his mouth. At least one of them was capable of masking emotions. If she had shown any indication that she had savored the touch, he was not sure what he would do. Most likely utter something stupidly touching that would make Ada laugh and saunter away with a knowing smile. Thankfully, Ada was always the stoic. Her strength to hide her emotions gave him strength. He was determined not to show his hand and succumb to her effortless grace and charm.

Her fingers brushed against his as she took the glass back and Leon cursed at himself for shuddering. Why did Ada have to be the only woman he pined after? He had a serious case of what Mike would call being pussy whipped. He had made the mistake once of telling his friend about the woman he chased after. The result of that confession was a laugh in his face and Mike trying to pry more sensual details of his and Ada's relationship out of him. It was easy to misread his relationship with the spy, Leon thought, defending himself. He helped Ada because they often had the same goal or helping one another enabled them to reach their own goals quicker. And no matter what relationship they had, they would always be friends. They had saved each other's lives in Racoon city and it was a debt neither of them forgot. He would never leave a friend in danger. Especially not a friend he had come to crave more than anything.

He flushed unintentionally at the thought. Maybe Mike had a point.

Having Ada's fingers ghost over his own had been torment enough; he did not know how to react when the woman reached out and rested the back of her hand against his forehead. Leon tilted his head to look at her.

"Ada?"

She pursed her lips slightly. "You feel warm."

Leon groaned a little. He was not going to explain that.

"What did the doctor say your recovery would be like?"

A warning bell went off in Leon's head. Ada was fishing for information.

"He didn't say much." He said casually, dropping his gaze to the floor. If he looked into her eyes, she would be able to read everything there. Her ability to read people was uncanny. "He told me how long it would take and how bad the pain would be."

"He didn't say anything about getting sick or feeling ill?"

Leon did his best to shrug his one shoulder. "He mentioned that the anesthesia might make me vomit for the first day or so. Luckily, I have a strong stomach in regards to that."

He raised his head and tried to smile at her, but the look on the woman's face told him that she wasn't buying it. After a moment of intensely scrutinizing his face, she nodded slowly.

"Tell me if you start to feel any symptoms of being sick. That will hinder your recovery."

The man made no comment, merely nodded once before turning away. They stayed in an awkward silence for several minutes. After a time, Ada went into the bathroom to investigate his medicine cabinet, apparently thinking that he was coming down with a cold. Leon listened to her rattle bottles around and shift through drawers. There was a particularly drawn out silence between rummages when Ada reached the cabinets by the sink. He listened from the bedroom, canting his head curiously, then turned bright red a moment later, wanting to smack himself when he realized she had likely found the box of condoms he kept in the drawer there.

Ada felt no obvious embarrassment from her discovery. She walked back into the room, face as passive as when she had been searching his face for answers. He shouldn't be embarrassed either, Leon chided himself. He was a grown man with natural needs.

She paused in front of him. "Are you hungry?"

The man shook his head. "Not really. The anesthetic might not make me puke, but it does upset my stomach. I'm kind of surprised I kept lunch down, to be honest."

Ada nodded but said, "You should still try to get something in your system."

Leon opened his mouth to respond, but the woman walked away then.

"I'll go look in the kitchen and see what I can find."

He did not bother to answer or try to deter her. When Ada was on a mission, she never wavered. A glance at the clock told him it was early evening. His brain was still tired, a mix of exhaustion and the medication. Really, he ought to get up for a little while, Leon thought, forcing himself to his feet. He let out a groan of pain as his entire body shuddered from the bone deep aches stemming from his shoulder.

Ada glanced at him as he slowly lumbered into the living room beside the kitchen. There was a plate on the counter she was preparing with some cheese and crackers on it. His stomach turned in protest just at the sight of the food. He groaned again, dropping onto the stool by the counter.

"Something wrong?" Ada asked calmly, her eyes never leaving the plate.

"That sickness is starting rear up." He said, bringing a hand to his face. "Why didn't I feel like this the last time I ate?"

Ada pushed the plate across to him. She leaned her elbows onto the counter and eyed him for a moment. "Everyone reacts to anesthesia differently. Beside, you fell right asleep after you ate. If you had any nausea, you probably slept right through it."

She had a point, Leon thought. How many times had he slept off hangovers or bad stomach aches?

"Eat."

Leon looked between the woman and the plate. He shook his head. Ada repeated the order.

'I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. If you keep your stomach empty, you'll make yourself feel worse down the line. You need sustenance. Eat seven of the crackers and three slices of cheese and if you can manage, a cluster of grapes."

Leon arched a brow at her; she usually wasn't so insistent. She had allowed him to keep Las Plagas swimming in his veins simply because he had refused to leave Ashley in the hands of her captors, despite any possible ramifications to his own health. Not the brightest decision, he realized in hindsight. Ada had sauntered away that time, appearing unconcerned, telling him to mind how much longer he allowed the parasite to germinate inside of him. Now though the option of going without eating was nonnegotiable.

Leon looked distastefully at the food and tried again. "I feel sick just looking at it, Ada. I can still feel my lunch sitting in my stomach."

The woman sighed in aggravation. She reached over and picked up a cracker, placed a piece of cheese on it, and lifted it to the man's mouth. Leon leaned back, then looked at her incredulously.

"What happened to not infantilizing me?"

"Don't act like an infant and you won't be treated like one."

She sounded like a scolding mother, Leon huffed. Ada wiggled the cracker at him and, just to prove a point, he leaned forward and snapped the cracker out of her hands with his teeth. The corner of her mouth twitched momentarily into a grin before she reached for another cracker. He half expected a snarting comment about him being a good boy.

She fed him a few more crackers until Leon pulled away with a grimace.

"Okay, enough, I'm really starting to feel sick now."

Ada looked at the plate a moment, considering. Deciding that Leon had eaten a sufficient amount, she began to pack the leftovers away. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the man hang his head, absently placing a hand on his stomach. She pitied Leon; the process of recovery was a difficult thing for people like them. They were used to being active, always on their toes, running for their lives, and living on an adrenaline high. The following months of sitting about, healing, would drive the man mad.

"The first days are the worst on the body." She said a minute later, sliding a glass of orange juice at Leon

The man lifted his head, blinking stupidly at her. He had been dozing, she realized with a soft smile.

He looked at the glass, grimacing. "Won't the citrus clash with my stomach acid and make me want to vomit more?"

Ada laughed. "Just take small sips. As many as you can. A little bit will do you good; orange juice is loaded with vitamin C."

Good for healing, Leon realized. If he were honest, he _was_ thirsty. A little sip wouldn't hurt and Ada was watching him intently. He would do it, just to please her. The juice actually tasted very good and he tipped the glass up, drinking it down in gulps. Slim fingers wrapped around his hand a moment later, surprising in their force as Ada pried the glass away from him.

"Easy, handsome. You said it yourself, the acid might react with your stomach. I said sip for a reason."

Leon licked his lips, still a little thirsty. Ada read the expression, rinsing the glass and filling it with water for him.

They lingered for a time in the kitchen as Leon nursed his glass of water. His stomach continued to churn, no matter how hard he concentrated on ignoring it. Their conversation was limited to his plans of recovery. Idle chitchat was not a strong suit with either of them. Occasionally, Leon's eyes would stray to Ada's face, and he would savor a moment of drinking in her features. It never lasted long though; if his gaze lingered too long, Ada would canter her head inquiringly at him or outright ask him why he was staring.

He halted suddenly in some comment and stood.

Ada watched as he moved from the counter and down the hall. "Feeling sick?"

Leon shook his head without looking at her. "Have to go to the bathroom."

The annoying nauseous feeling in his gut had turned to something a bit more tolerable and easily relievable. He opted for the bathroom in his room, rather than the one in the hall. He drifted to a stop in front of the toilet and glanced at his bound arm. Maneuvering his pants down was going to be a pain in the ass. If he had been alone in the apartment, he would have pulled some bachelor stunt like wearing nothing but his boxers or forgoing clothing down there altogether. When he was done in there, the next thing he would do was slip into a pair of drawstring sweatpants, Leon decided. He cursed his idiot decision to wear a pair of pants that buttoned. At least he wouldn't need to wrestle with a belt, he thought with a disgruntled sigh.

The battle with his pants was embarrassingly difficult and Leon was quickly losing his temper. He had just let out a grunt of exasperation, but the sound quickly turned into a surprised yelp when two slender arms slipped between his sides and arms and worked his pants loose.

Leon stood, frozen as Ada's arms retreated. He could feel the heat from her body, inches behind his own. As she had withdrawn, he had felt the warmth of her breath stir the hair at the nape of his neck. He swallowed thickly, glad that he had his back to her so she could not see the way his face flushed.

They were motionless and silent for several long, awkward moments. His fingers curled in the fabric of his pants as he held them on his hips.

"Thanks." Leon mumbled, voice gone hoarse.

"You're welcome."

He took a tentative step towards the toilet then paused. He waited a moment, then looked over his shoulder at Ada, brows drawn, his embarrassment vivid.

"Ada?"

She lifted her brows. "Yes?"

"You can go."

The woman smiled, glancing openly at his crotch before turning and striding out. "If you think you can manage it on your own."

Mortification was something Leon was slowly growing accustomed to. How the hell did Ada always manage to make him feel embarrassed and out of place, he wondered. He was no naïve school boy, and there was certainly more in their history that ought to temper his awkward moments and furious blushes.

"Do me a favor," he called before she had closed the bathroom door, "and find a pair of sweat pants for me. Bottom drawer of the dresser."

When he emerged from the bathroom, Ada was gone, having laid his pants on the bed for him. Approaching the bed, he heard her soft voice call from down the hall,

"If you need assistance, call for me."

That was not going to happen, Leon thought determinably. Working his one pair of pants down his legs and off his feet was easy enough. Getting the other pair on was the difficult task. The fleeting desire to go sans pants rose in his head again. To get the pants on, he had to sit on the bed and carefully slip first one foot and then the other inside before working them up his legs. The ordeal took several tries and when he was done, Leon just wanted to fall back on the bed and go back to sleep.

He looked at the clock. Normally, he wouldn't even consider sleep for several more hours. That day was far from normal though. Coming home from surgery that morning had sapped all his strength and energy. Still, he ought to strive to stay awake for a bit longer. The pain in his shoulder had numbed somewhat. Once it started to get bad, he would lay down again.

Ada did not even glance at him as he joined her in the living room and eased himself onto the couch next to her. He yearned to slide closer, to do something reckless like put his hand on her thigh, just to see how she would react. Leon could just image the chastising look Ada would shoot him before casually plucking his hand off her leg. He must have laughed aloud at the thought, for Ada turned her head ever so slightly, baring a bit of the pale flesh on her neck.

"What's so funny?"

Leon bit his tongue, humor gone in the wake of being caught. "Just thinking about my bad luck."

She said nothing, merely returned to the laptop poised delicately in her lap. His curiosity over what she was up to was impossible to ignore and Leon spent the better part of five minutes trying to discreetly peer over her shoulder at the screen. Discretion was apparently another trait not in his repertoire of skills; Ada let off a soft puff of breath, an irritated sound, and turned the screen to face him.

"Records of Racoon City."She explained.

Leon made a face. He had intimate knowledge on that; he did not need to see what she was writing. "What are you typing that up for?"

Ada swiveled the laptop back to her and continued clacking away. "That is none of your business, Leon."

She went mute then, refusing to look at him or acknowledge his presence in any way. It was maddening and disheartening how cold Ada could be at times. She was unreachable, something he could never possess, no matter how much he wanted her. He frowned at his lap, encouraging the flood of logic. How many times had he been burned, chasing Ada's flame? Each time he caught her, she allowed him to hold her, stay warm with her, but it was a joy never to last. Each time he told himself not to do it, and each time he woke up, hating himself more. Now he was forced into her company. Even if they didn't do anything, having Ada lingering in his presence, having her within reach but still unobtainable, would hurt. If he thought he was burned before, Leon mused miserably, he was going to be drown in a conflagration by the end of Ada's stay this time.

Leon stood so abruptly, he teetered. The woman looked up at him, surprised.

"I'm going to bed." He said in a tight voice, trying to restrain his dark mood.

Ada nodded. "I'll wake you for your next dose of pills."

"Sure."

Getting into bed, Leon wished he could curl up on his side and bury his head under his arm. Now was not the time to have to deal with his emotions. He pulled the blankets over his head, doing his best to drown out the world and the reality he found himself in. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for sleep. His thoughts would not quiet though.

"Please be gone tomorrow." He willed the woman in the other room. He wished it with such fervor, he could think of nothing else. He chanted it in his head, hoping for an easy end to the odd situation.

"Really," he tried to sooth himself, "it's unlikely she'll stay. Ada always leaves. Screaming 'wait' at her doesn't work, why would saying nothing work?"

She had seen him through the first day, Leon reasoned. And she must be busy. He fell asleep, wishing against his secret yearnings that Ada would slip away during the night. When she roused him in the wee hours of the morning, helping him take his pills with such tender affection that he almost choked, Leon fell back asleep screaming inwardly for her to leave.

The next morning, he woke to an empty room. The alarm on his clock had been set and next to it sat a glass of water with two pills. Leon sighed in relief and disappointment. He swallowed the pills and sat on the edge of his bed, trying not to dwell on the empty feeling in his chest.

"Are you going to eat this morning, handsome?"

Leon's head snapped up. Ada stood in the doorway in a black pencil skirt and a lacy white blouse. Her hands were on her hips as she stared at him, awaiting his response. She was still there. It seemed impossible, but there she was. Leon could not help the way his eyes lit up upon seeing her. It made the woman smile.

"I have eggs and toast in the kitchen, and some bacon cooking."

Real food. It had been ages since Leon had eaten a true breakfast. Coffee and energy bars—that was his typical morning meal.

Leon smiled at her. "I'll be right there."

She nodded, walking out with a flash of her coy eyes. When she was safely down the hall, Leon sucked in a breath and tried to wrap his head around what it meant to have Ada still in his apartment. She was serious about making sure he healed, that was evident. But it meant something for the two of them as well, he knew. What that was, he was still unsure, but he would find out. The good reason he had, reminding him to keep his distance, to avoid getting burned, was silenced by his happiness. Even as he clung to logic, praying that he did not come to regret his joy, he could not quell it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ugh, this chapter was horrible to write. Nothing would flow. Not the story or the words. I just need it to be gone! Uh, so for this chapter, just bear in mind that this is the day after Leon had surgery and that surgery does indeed hurt like a bitch. Also, I have a doctor sister to tell me these things, and, yes, you are supposed to bathe the day after this type of surgery to keep it clean. Even if it hurts like a bitch. Thanks for the reviews, guys! Keep 'em coming, please!

Chapter 3

The smell of breakfast hit Leon half way down the hall. Despite the previous day's chaos with his stomach, his belly rumbled eagerly and his mouth began watering. Lumbering into the kitchen, he eyed Ada as she stood in front of the oven, turning the bacon in the frying pan. Sitting on the table was a medium sized plate with eggs and two slices of toast. Without waiting for Ada to instruct him, he sat down and began slowly shoveling the eggs into his mouth.

Ada glanced at him once, grinning slightly. "How is your shoulder?"

Leon paused between forkfuls of egg and peeked at his bound arm. "It still hurts. Still a level 8 pain."

She hummed at him, turning the oven burner off and bringing a plate of bacon to him. He immediately reached for piece, almost melting in happiness as the taste filled his mouth. Breakfast. A real breakfast. Once again, Ada was leaning on the counter, watching him eat with a bemused grin. Leon tried not to be bothered by her scrutiny.

"Are you going to do more than sleep today?" She asked in what sounded an off-handed tone.

Leon paused, a strip of bacon inches from his mouth. He answered truthfully. "Probably not."

"Still tired?"

"Not as bad as yesterday, but the pain is still at the point where anything other than sitting makes being awake unbearable."

She stared at his face a few moments, considering. As he watched the gears clocking in the woman's head, Leon wished, not for the first time, that he knew how Ada's mind worked. What was she thinking of? How did it concern him? More importantly, how would it leave him in the long run?

Ada walked around the counter to stand beside him, tilting her head, then laid a hand on his forehead as she had done the previous day. Leon sat still, waiting.

With a sigh, she withdrew her hand. "Your temperature keeps going up."

"I feel fine." Leon objected. He hadn't felt warm once since he had come home. She was worrying too much, creating concerns in her own head. It was somewhat exhilarating though to think that Ada was so anxious about his wellbeing.

The woman had an opposing opinion however. Her eyes ghosted over him, taking in his wounded shoulder, the color of his skin, noting how much he was eating, and cataloguing his fatigue. The symptoms were evident to her eyes, but Leon was being stubborn. Or clueless. He had a tendency to overlook his health when other matters were on his mind. It was part of his reckless charm.

With a smile, Ada crossed her arms, pinning the man with her gaze. "You're going to come down with a fever soon."

Leon scoffed, dropping his bacon. "I don't think so."

"I do."

He glanced sideways at her. Arguing with Ada was pointless, partially because she was usually right. That didn't mean he had to like it though. When he said nothing else, Ada took that to mean that Leon had finally accepted her way of thinking. She patted his back approvingly before sauntering away to search the bathrooms for a proper fever reducer. Advil and Tylenol were decent, but not a pill she would take. A soft frown tugged at her lips. There was a drugstore about a block away from the apartment; an easy run…if she trusted Leon alone.

"Well," she mused aloud, "Leon is a big boy. He can handle himself. For awhile."

She would trust him alone for half an hour. Beyond that, she held no hope that he would stay out of trouble.

"I'm going to the drugstore." She announced, waltzing back into the kitchen and plucking her coat from the rack.

Leon looked surprised. The need for proper medicine was obvious, so she did not waste words to explain herself. Before she opened the door to leave, she noted with a disapproving frown that the man had stopped eating with half a plate of eggs and a full slice of toast left. She would have to monitor how much he ate at lunch to try and gauge when the fever would hit.

"Be a good boy and keep out of trouble."

She tossed him a playful grin before shutting the door.

Leon sighed at the closed door. "Just what I need. A mother hen."

The apartment was quiet when Ada returned. Were she on a mission, the quiet would alarm her, warn her that something was amiss. Walking into the kitchen, she could not suppress the feeling that something was not right. It was a ludicrous notion, she admonished herself. Leon had most likely ambled off to his room and gone back to sleep. Tossing the plastic bag onto the counter, she went to confirm her suspicions.

Sure enough, lying underneath a poorly arranged blanket was Leon, fast asleep. With a small laugh, she went over and righted the edges of the blanket, making sure to cover his feet and arms. She pressed her hand to his forehead again, frowning when she detected a slight increase in temperature.

Ada sat on the end of the bed, considering. It was the second day of Leon's release; the fatigue would linger for another few days as the pain slowly ebbed away. His body was fighting to get back to normal. She had expected a fever to accompany the trauma his body had gone through. Even expecting it, she had hoped it would not arrive for another few days, until Leon had gathered some strength.

There was no use crying about it, Ada thought. Leon would have to tough it out. He was capable of that. She did not like dwelling on how his body would be fighting a fever as well as fighting to repair itself, but there was nothing she could do for it, save feed him the extra strength fever reducers she had purchased. With luck, the fever wouldn't put his recovery off for more than a day or two.

When next he woke, Leon could tell that his health was going downhill. Which meant that Ada was right. As usual. A sheen of sweat coated his brow and his skin was flushed, uncannily hot from the thin cover of the blanket. He groaned at the thought of coming down with a fever. As if the pain of shoulder surgery wasn't enough, now he would be festering in hot flashes, sweating through clothes and bedcovers, wanting to curl up and die but unable to, lest he damage his shoulder.

"Ada?" He called.

He waited, somehow still expecting that she might leave. His concern was unfounded; Ada walked into the room, water and pills in hand. As she handed the pills to him, Leon noted that there were two more than usual.

"What's that?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"They'll help with the fever." She explained.

He laughed softly, taking all four pills at once. "How could you have possibly known about the fever?"

Ada shrugged, taking the empty glass of water when he had finished. "Most people who go through surgery have some sort of reaction. Fever is the most common. Especially if the immune system isn't as healthy as it should be."

Her sharp eyes turned on him suddenly and Leon felt a pang of panic. She knew something.

"If you ate better, had better food and ate three meals a day, you would be in better health." She scolded. "Some vitamins wouldn't hurt you either."

Leon did not respond. He did not want to argue about his lack of nutritious breakfasts or his startling frequency ordering Chinese food. He had no excuse anyway. He was a bachelor. With no one to look out for, and no one to look after him, there seemed little point in wasting time to cook. It did not truly surprise him to find that Ada could and did cook. She knew how to take care of herself.

He chose not t respond and glanced at the clock. A little after three. These naps seemed to get longer and longer. With a sigh, Leon got out of bed, working the kinks out of his back, and followed Ada to her spot on the couch where her work was spread out on the table in front of her. There were more files than yesterday and Leon felt no shame picking one up and flipping through it.

"Excuse you." Ada said, voice rising ever so slightly in what he thought was annoyance or insult.

"My apartment." He countered, flipping through photos of burned buildings and piles of debris. He paused when he reached a particular photo. The police station; he could recognize that old place in a heartbeat.

Leon looked at Ada, brows drawn in confusion. "What are you doing with these?" He flashed the photo of the police station at her.

The woman frowned. It was evident that she did not want to share anything and just to make it unquestionably clear, she grabbed the folder out of his hands and reminded him, "I told you the other day that it was none of your business, Leon."

Her refusal to speak only made him more curious. Moving around the table, he sat down as close to her as he could get without infringing upon her personal space. As it was, Ada shot him an unappreciative glare as he sat less than five inches from her.

"Leon." She warned.

"This is an important part of my past. I'm allowed to be curious."

"And I'm not allowed to say anything."

He frowned. "Then just let me see."

"You already saw." Ada growled, losing her patience.

"Please, Ada."

His plea gave her pause. She stared at him for a long moment, eyes darting about his face, looking into the depths of his eyes, lingering on the scar on his cheek, until her own fierce eyes narrowed.

"No."

The scattered folders condensed into a single, thick stack with a strong, sweeping arc of her arm. Leon frowned as the picture of the police station drowned in the papers. What on earth was she up to? It was no great shock that she refused to tell him; Ada was always the mysterious type. Part and partial of being a spy, he supposed. When it came to work, she took confidentiality seriously. Given that it was him who was snooping, someone who could potentially mess up her plans, he supposed he couldn't blame her for not trusting him.

"I wouldn't get in your way." He blurted suddenly, still gazing longingly at the pile.

Ada laughed, shaking her head. "Are you that bored, Leon?"

"Come on, Ada, what do you think I could do? I don't have any idea who hired you and the people I work for have their hands full. Besides, it's not like I could do anything, with the shape I'm in. You can't even tell me a little about what this is about?"

Her eyes slid to him, assessing him once more. Her mouth tightened into a thin angry line and Leon expected another rebuttal. To his surprise, the woman reached over to her pile of files and shoved a sparse manila folder at him.

"A summary of the outbreak's path." She said, returning to her work.

Leon took the folder gratefully. Never would he have thought he would miss paper work, but at least if he was doing paperwork, he would still be in the loop of things. Playing on the fringes of whatever Ada was doing gave him a little more incentive to stay awake.

They worked through dinner, at which time Ada ordered some plates from an organic restaurant nearby. Leon had poked at the vegetables and tofu, unsure of what to think. It was a change for his palate, that was certain. Ada insisted that he eat; it was filled with nutrients to help him heal. The food wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be, thankfully; the tofu nearly made him gag, so he scraped his portion onto Ada's plate and went for more veggies. Altogether, it wasn't a bad meal, Leon admitted, nodding approval when Ada filed the drawer with the rest of his take-out menus.

Work resumed after they indulged in a small drink, which Leon was grateful to have. When he finished one file, Ada would hand him another to read through. Leon was fairly certain she was only handing him the unimportant pieces of her case files, but it was work and he was grateful to the woman for humoring him.

After reading through the last report she had handed him, Leon began flipping through the pictures that accompanied the file.

"Someone wants to know the results of the Racoon City outbreak?"

It took a moment for Ada to respond, clacking away on her laptop. "Yes."

He looked sideways at her. "Not for any malignant purpose, I hope."

There was an audible thunk as Ada dropped her hands onto the keyboard in exasperation. "Leon, you promised you wouldn't pry. Don't make me regret letting you seeing these files."

"I just want to know if I should watch out for another Racoon City." He snapped, defensively. "Is that too much to ask?"

The woman looked at him, raising her chin defiantly. There was a fierce look in her eyes that made Leon swallow.

"Do you think I would assist in another attack like that?" She asked quietly, her tone unreadable.

Unreadable as she was, her face passive and eyes devoid of any emotion, Leon knew he had insulted her. Years of knowing one another, of helping and hindering each other, of learning each other's secrets, they had both learned to read one another. He frowned, feeling a pang of guilt.

"No," he answer quietly, sliding the folder onto the table, "I don't think you would do something like that. But no matter your intentions, someone could always use the information for their own purposes."

Even knowing Ada, Leon admitted a moment later, he still had difficulty reading her at times. Her poker face was rock solid; he was still trying to construct his own. He could understand why the woman had been insulted, but for the life of him, he could not understand why she was suddenly smiling at him. She reached out, red nails grazing his cheek.

Ada shook her head at the clueless expression on Leon's face. "I do research of my own. I have no intention of letting my work be compromised. Remember, I was in Racoon City too."

Indeed she had been. They had almost lost each other once. It was not a fond memory for Leon. He hated that memory almost more than the memories of nearly dying at the hands of hordes of corpses.

They sat for a moment, looking at one another. The desperate part of Leon's brain, likely influenced by the drugs, whispered at him to kiss Ada. He squashed that thought angrily and turned away from her so she wouldn't be able to read his thoughts in his eyes. Turning back a minute later, he was surprised to see her grinning at him. She reached out again, this time plucking at an out of place lock of hair on his forehead.

"You should take a bath." She said softly, in her usual voice of silk.

Leon repressed a shudder. "I don't think I can manage it."

"I'll help."

He groaned. "You're really trying to embarrass me, aren't you?"

Ada laughed. "Why should you be embarrassed? You're injured. There's nothing wrong with needing help."

Needing help was not the issue here, he thought. Regardless, that was a strange thing to hear from her, Leon mused. From his experience, Ada hated needing help. She was somewhat less resistant to his assistance, but if he made comment about it, she tended to get defensive.

Just as he was opening his mouth to turn her down, Ada tucked her files away in a briefcase and got up from the couch. She looked at him, waiting. Leon returned her stare, threatening to pout. He was not pleased with the situation, but a look at Ada told him that he didn't really have much choice. This time, when it came to his health, she was calling the shots. And according to Ada, he needed a bath.

With a disgruntled sound, he got up as well and followed her to the bathroom. Ada slipped off her shoes in his bedroom, then went to sit on the edge of the bathtub. She eyed him as the water was running, watching his struggle to undress without word. To his credit, Leon managed to slip out of his pants by himself and undo the sling that bound his shoulder. The actual task of getting his shirt off was beyond him though. With a crestfallen sigh, he glanced at Ada beseechingly.

She chuckled softly, rising from her perch to stand behind him.

"Just move with me." She said softly, rolling the shirt up his stomach and working his good arm out.

There was a soft hiss of pain as they got his shirt over his head and maneuvered it past his injured shoulder and down his other arm. Ada tossed the shirt to the side; it was dirty and reeked of sweat. She made a mental note that Leon would need a new change of clothes. It was only a fleeting thought; her attention was grabbed when she noticed that Leon was shaking ever so slightly. Even that small task had moved his shoulder to the point of intense pain. She frowned at his back, then reached out to run her hands gently over his sides.

"You won't be bathing for a few days after this; it's better to do this tonight instead of waiting a week. Finish undressing. A soak in hot water will make you feel better."

Leon made no comment on that. He was busy chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to will the tremor out of his limbs. Despite the pain, he was still curious to see his shoulder. There wasn't much to see however; the wound was packed in gauze and thick medical tape. The area around the tape was flushed angrily though.

"Leon?" Ada called.

He looked at her, pale, swallowing back as much pain as he could. Looking at him, Ada had a sudden stirring of pity for him. He looked like an abused animal, shaking and in pain. She walked over, examining his face. The energy he had a few moments go was slowly dying in the wake of pain. Poor Leon she thought, offering him a smile. An occasional wound was inevitable though. She slipped her hands past the band of his boxers, letting her fingers dig into his warm flesh, before easing the last article of clothing off of him. Leon didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed anymore.

Getting the man into the bathtub was a somewhat difficult process and at times, she was holding up more of his weight than he was. Ada did not mind though; she was strong. After getting him settled in the water, she worked her nylons down her legs then slipped onto the ledge of the tub behind Leon, feet dipped into the water at his sides. He barely moved as she slid a bar of soap over his back and arms, lying delicate touches by his injured shoulder. No matter how soft the touch, he could not contain the finches and groans of pain as her fingertips danced over his skin. Even the dribbling of water to rinse away the suds seemed to hurt.

Sensing his distress, Ada decided not to push him to soak. She reached for the shampoo and pulled his head back slightly. It felt odd, lathering Leon's hair and rinsing it clean, doing her best to avoid getting soap in his eyes. It was something she would do for a child. Not that she ever thought she would have a child to wash, but she recalled her own childhood well enough.

The memory left abruptly when she felt Leon's body shuddering again. Ada frowned, having just finished with the conditioner. She moved ever so slightly to peer at Leon's face and was somewhat surprised to see a few small tears tracking down his cheeks. Perhaps this had been a bad idea, she thought with a frown.

As Ada slipped out from behind him to find a towel, Leon gathered his breath and mumbled,

"Don't get the wrong idea I can handle pain, but—"

"I wasn't thinking anything." Ada said quietly, giving him the softest expression she could muster.

She walked over with the towel and smiled. Getting Leon into the tub had been difficult enough; getting him out was worse. If the man wasn't as tenacious and stubborn as he was, she was sure she would have had to get in there with him to help. As it was, he braced his good arm on the edge of the tub and forced himself to stand. Ada stood quietly, only moving forward when he began to step out of the tub. Leon was wavering and she was in no mood to have him falling and injuring himself far worse than he already was.

They stumbled together into the bedroom, where Ada carefully sat him on the bed. While he had slept earlier, she had acquainted herself with his drawers and she immediately went to get him a pair of warm sweat pants and a loose shirt that wouldn't hug too tightly on his shoulder.

"Ada." he called from the bed. She glanced over. "Would you be mortified if I said I just want to go commando for the next few days? It's just…easier."

The woman chuckled. "I think that's a fine idea, Leon."

She returned with a pile of clothes, waiting for Leon's usual refusal of help. He said nothing, only reached out to take the shirt and arrange it for when they were ready to slip it on him. Ada graced him with an approving look before bending to get his feet into the pants.

"God," Leon muttered tiredly, "if this is what getting old is like, I hope I never experience it."

"Don't be so dramatic." Ada chided, helping Leon ease the pants up his hips.

He snorted at her comment, then grimaced as they moved on to the next article of clothing and started working his shirt over his head. The entire bathing and redressing endeavor cost him in pain and Leon barely had the strength to get his arm back into the sling before collapsing into his pillows. Ada disappeared for a few minutes before returning with some much needed pain pills.

Again, Leon swallowed them in one gulp. With a sigh of relief, he eased back into the bed, saying nothing as Ada arranged the blankets over him. The room was quiet so long that he had thought Ada must have slunk away to go back to work, but her soft voice stirred him from his doze.

"I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes to find the woman looking down at him, a genuine apologetic look on her face. Leon frowned.

"Sorry for what?"

"For causing you more pain. I thought it best that you bathe before the fever hits, when you won't have any energy to spare. After this type of surgery, you're supposed to bathe the next day to keep the area clean of infection. I underestimated the amount of pain you were in."

He shook his head weakly. "No, it was a good idea, Ada. The water did feel good on the rest of my muscles and my scalp doesn't itch anymore. And I sure don't need the shoulder to get infected. " He paused, looking her over. "_I'm_ sorry."

Ada canted her head. "What are you sorry for?"

"For getting your blouse wet."

She glanced down. Sure enough, the front of her shirt was stained, the outline of her brassier visible through the thin fabric. Ada couldn't help but laugh.

"That's hardly important."

Her words likely weren't heard, as when next she looked at him, Leon was asleep. Ada shook her head, amused.

"Sleep well, hon." She murmured, brushing back some of the bangs that had fallen on his forehead and then leaning down to kiss the spot.


	4. Chapter 4

Next chapter, after some horrid writers block. Chunking it into smaller chapters might be easier...anyway, thanks to all who reviewed! I love reviews!

Chapter 4

The fever was coming. Leon groaned as he peeled his eyes open. His dreams were beginning to get odd; that was his first sign. It wasn't often that he fell victim to seasonal colds, but on the rare occasion that he did, his fever dreams were the worst part of it. It was much like lucid dreaming, where he woke, unsure if he had slept or not, feeling un-rested and frustrated.

Leon sighed, lying in bed, savoring the warmth of the blankets wrapped around him. Sometime during the night, Ada had come in and covered him. It was a touching gesture, but he felt all the more grateful knowing it was her to have done it. He was still unused to Ada being so kind to him. He knew her cold shoulder too well.

His solitude did not last long. Ada strode through the door, glass of water and pills in hand. After helping him swallow them down, she laid her hand delicately on his forehead.

The woman sighed. "Your temperature is climbing. It will peak either tonight or tomorrow."

This time, Leon could not deny her claim. At least the fever was moving quick, he thought. If he were lucky, he would not be languishing in a sick haze for more than a night. His eyes flicked to Ada, who was watching him carefully. She had her calculating look on. Leon knew that look all intimately. She was assessing him. Whether that was a good sign in a caretaker or not, he did not know, but he supposed he would find out soon enough.

"Come and get some food in you and then we'll see how you feel." Ada suggested, picking up the empty glass.

Leon nodded, struggling to sit up. She did not wait for him. That was a good thing, because now that he was awake, the man could feel his bladder calling for him to relieve it. He entered the kitchen a few minutes later, finding a half of a sandwich and a small pile of fruit waiting for him. Ada was serious about him eating better.

With a sigh, he sank down onto a stool and began picking at the food. Ada said nothing of his lack of enthusiasm, likely pleased that he was eating without protest this time. Leon had to admit, his stomach felt much better than it had the day before. He even had something akin to an appetite.

As he munched, he could not help but let his eyes stray to the woman across the counter as she examined his cupboards and read the labels on some of his food. Leon knew where this was going; once he was better, he would go searching for his poptarts only to discover them tossed with half of his other food that Ada had deemed unhealthy. The mischievous gleam was already in her eyes as she glanced at him. Leon only sighed, thinking it not worth a fight. She was probably right about his need to eat better. And he could always go buy more.

His pantry sank to the back of his mind as he took in the flattering dress and blazer Ada was wearing. Her blouse was gray, but he could see the strap of a red bra peeking onto her shoulder. God, why did she have to be so gorgeous, he lamented to himself. And why had she chosen him? There were days he felt utterly ruined because of Ada. He played at flirting and dating and even indulged in the occasional one night stand, but his mind always returned to her. It was maddening. And depressing when he always came to the realization that he couldn't have her.

"Stop moping."

Leon blinked. "What?"

"You're sulking about something." Ada said, leaning her elbows onto the counter. "What is it?"

His alarm bell went off. "It's nothing." He lied, looking away so she wouldn't see the anxiety in his eyes.

"You're lying."

"You always lie to me." He countered defensively.

Ada flinched slightly at the comment. For a moment, her brows furrowed as if she were confused. "I don't lie to you, Leon. I omit things, but I don't lie to you. I respect you enough to refrain from lying."

Leon blinked, surprised at both her frank expression and tone. In all the time he had known Ada, he could count on one hand the number of times they had been so open with one another. If he thought on it, he had to admit that Ada had never actually lied to him. She was secretive to a fault, but she never misled him. That was a promising sign for them. If she lied to him at every turn, unwilling to share anything, he would have to worry.

His thoughts scattered when she reached across the way and rested her palm against his cheek. Leon looked at her, unable to help the pathetic expression on his face.

Ada smiled sadly at him. "Leon, you and I are from two different worlds and work for very different people under different circumstances."

"But we usually want the same thing." He insisted, pressing his face into her warm hand.

Her lips twitched, her expression saying that that was not an entirely true statement. "We both have to do what we need to do. I can't have you jeopardize my mission, just as you can't allow me to do the same to you."

It was an unsavory truth.

"I'm tired of working against you, Ada."

She rubbed her thumb across the edge of his cheekbone. "You don't work against me, Leon. You just don't work with me."

"Sounds the same to me."

"It isn't. You would know if you were working against me and I wouldn't be here with you right now."

He nodded and Ada withdrew her hand. For some time now, there had been unspoken questions lingering in his eyes that he never dared to ask. So many whys. Ada always gave him a look, her answer in her heavy gaze. It just wasn't plausible.

Leon shoved the plate of food away from him, no longer hungry. Perhaps the drugs were making him unstable; he had the oddest urge to cry. He could even feel the tears prick at the back of his eyes. Stupid, he thought, hastily blinking them away and giving Ada his back so she would not see. Not that she likely hadn't taken note. Ada noticed everything. It was infuriating sometimes, especially when his pride was at stake.

"I'm going back to bed." He mumbled.

Ada did not reply. She watched him shuffle back down the hallway, hand dangling limply from the side of his sling. She sighed and began to clean up his plate. It seemed a pity to her that Leon was such an open book, wearing his emotions on his sleeve. A little discretion might save him some heartache. She had said something of the sort to him once and the man had flinched then looked away guiltily. He knew his faults. Likely, he had tried to change too; she had seen him make several cheap attempts at nonchalant flirting. That typically ended badly.

The woman shook her head with a small smile. Leon was ever an amusement, even if it was painful to watch at times. While she cleaned, she could not help but feel that when it came to her, he had given up. He had not given up hope that there might be a way to work something out with her, but he had given up trying to reason with her, to plead, or hide his emotions.

She did not waste her time dwelling on it. She knew better. Her time was better spent trying to calculate when the fever would hit. Leon's lackluster eating might have hindered him a bit. In any case, she was betting by tonight he would be rolling in sweat. That would mean a long night for both of them, as she would need to remain by his bedside to ensure he didn't recklessly roll over or crush his shoulder.

With a sigh, she began to make herself some tea. Maybe she would take a rest of her own before diving into an all-nighter.

Leon woke to the feel of a cool cloth pressed against his forehead. He swallowed, or tried, finding his throat thick and closed up. The fever was here. He groaned, screwing his eyes shut as the unpleasant sensation of his entire body burning from the inside out made itself known.

"Shhhh."

"Ada?" He rasped out, struggling to regain focus in his eyes.

"Can you go back to sleep?"

"What?"

The woman chortled softly. "You slept all day; it's evening now. The fever sapped all your strength. It would be best for you to go back to sleep."

He had slept all day? Leon craned his neck so that he might look at the clock, upsetting his shoulder in the process. A shock of pain raced through his side and he hissed. It had been a fleeting glance, but he had seen the time in bold green numbers on the clock face and, sure enough, he had slept right through until dinner. That was quite a feat.

Ada shushed him again, leaning over to fluff his pillow some, then adjusted the clock on the table so that he could see it without twisting.

"Don't move so much." She admonished, dipping the cloth in water and wiping it along his brow again.

Leon swallowed, attempting to blink away his bleary vision. It seemed to be a losing battle and after a valiant struggle, he surrendered and allowed himself to relax into the pillows.

"Is this it? The peak of the fever?" He asked hopefully.

Ada's soft laugh was answer enough. "I wish. This is just the beginning. You'll probably have a fever for the next day or two."

Wonderful, the man groaned to himself. The tip of the iceberg was horrible enough; he couldn't imagine what the peak would be like. After Ada had pressed the cold cloth to his face a few more times, she urged him into a sitting position to eat some dinner. His appetite had disserted him, but the woman insisted and Leon was never able to say no to Ada.

Once he was finished, Leon handed the plate over and got comfortable in bed again. Even having slept the day away, he still felt exhausted. The radiating fire that constantly burned in his arm was becoming a minor annoyance, despite the pain. His brain was so foggy, between drugs and fever, that he couldn't concentrate on it.

Ada watched him for a moment with a frown, hiding her concern well. It was going to be a bad fever, she could tell. Half a day in and Leon was already loopy. If the man hadn't been in a bad condition, she probably would have gotten a good laugh at it. Leon was far too serious in her opinion. His one-liners showed that he had a sense of humor, but as the government had used him more and more, she had noticed a chance in his demeanor. He was still a morally strong, hopeful man, but he was jaded now. In all that he saw and experienced, he had learned how terrible people were, saw the lengths they would go to in order to fulfill their own desires, and saw horrors no one should ever think on. She couldn't blame him for being the way he was.

A soft, pained groan drew her attention back to the man. Ada was only mildly surprised to find Leon asleep again. Fever and surgery might have only been part of the root of his exhaustion. From her intelligence, she knew Leon had been working steadily for months. In his line of work, with the terrors he saw, exhaustion was bound to catch up to him sooner or later and it had hit the man hard.

With a sigh, Ada got to her feet and took the plate to the kitchen. Looking after Leon was beginning to get trying. Not because it was difficult, but because it was boring. It was unlike her to sit in one place, to play domestic. A small part of her exalted in the role, and on a few rare occasions she allowed herself to consider whether a life with Leon would feel like that. They were fleeting fancies though and ones she dismissed quickly. She had a job to do and more importantly she _liked_ her job. Leon's health came first, but soon he would be healthy enough to stand on his own without her constant presence.

She decided that, when that time came, she would get back to work immediately. Hopefully, Leon's injury would work to her benefit and he would stay out of her way.


End file.
